


Girls Like Girls Like Boys Do (Nothing New)

by NahaFlowers



Category: The Hour
Genre: Bi!Bel, Bisexuality, Coming Out, F/F, F/M, Freddie is a supportive friend, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 21:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13132452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NahaFlowers/pseuds/NahaFlowers
Summary: "So is it women and men then?" he asks conversationally, and from anyone else it would be incredulous, or interrogative, or both, but from Freddie it's just...a question."Yes," says Bel. She feels full and comfortable, in the way one does after a satisfying meal and a bottle of wine. "I always have." And it really is just that simple.Freddie finds out, early on in their friendship, that Bel's interests lie with women as well as men.





	Girls Like Girls Like Boys Do (Nothing New)

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a fic where Bel is bi and Freddie totally knows about and is supportive of it, so that's what I did.

"She's so intelligent, and funny, and I just think it's incredible that a woman like that can also be so incredibly beautiful." Bel is gushing, and she sort of knows it, but who else is she going to talk to about Miranda, if not Freddie? It's not like he'll cotton on, anyway. Freddie is eye-rollingly, almost adorably naive when it comes to this type of thing.  
  
He laughs. "You sound like you have a crush on her," he says, jokingly. Bel freezes. Freddie, being Freddie, notices immediately, but merely raises an eyebrow for now, awaiting a response.  
  
"No I don't," Bel snaps, too quickly, and God, if it hadn't been obvious before, it is now, and Bel just wants to melt into the ground.  
  
Freddie's mouth forms in a round 'O', of surprise or realisation, Bel is not entirely sure. She's not nearly as adept at reading Freddie's emotions as he is at reading hers. "You _do_ have a crush on her," he says, shock and conviction mingling in his town.  
  
"No!" says Bel again, a reflex. Then, "yes. Maybe. I don't know." She does know - she's known she's liked girls, in a way other girls weren't supposed to like girls, before she knew she liked boys - going to an all girls boarding school will do that. Freddie gives her that look, the one that tells her he knows she's lying, and she has to look away.  
  
"Moneypenny," he says, and she hates the way that nickname has taken root, hates even more how it makes her heart burst with warmth and affection, even though she hates the concept of it on principle, "you know I wouldn't...judge you for that, right?" He lays a hand on her arm, but Bel still won't look at him. "It's fine, honestly." She chances a glance up at him and is relieved to see him smiling. Her pulse rate slows down, just a touch. "I'm happy for you."  
  
The words sound genuine and Bel breathes easier. "Really?" she has to ask.  
  
Freddie nods, grinning, and she can't help matching his expression. Then he leans forward on his elbows, the expression of burning interest he always wears when chasing a particularly important news item, or indeed, Bel thinks, when talking to her, on his face. "So is it women _and_ men then?" he asks conversationally, and from anyone else it would be incredulous, or interrogative, or both, but from Freddie it's just...a question.  
  
"Yes," says Bel. She feels full and comfortable, in the way one does after a satisfying meal and a bottle of wine. "I always have." And it really is just that simple.  


 

* * *

 

"She's pretty," Bel comments when Freddie rejoins her at their table in the pub, drinks in hand.  
  
He sets hers down in front of her. "Who?" he says.  
  
"That girl you were talking to. At the bar."  
  
"Oh," says Freddie, vaguely, looking back towards the bar. They'd exchanged a few pleasant words, he supposed, but he had all but forgotten her by the time he had got back to Bel. He flashed her a grin. "For me or for you?"  
  
Bel look scandalised for the briefest of moments before letting out a delicate snort. "I'm perfectly fine here tonight," she says. She leans in conspiratorially. "As long as you are," she whispers in his ear.  
  
Freddie blushes, has to catch his breath before answering. He hates and loves when she is like this, in equal measure; tipsy and flirtatious and physically affectionate. He wants to bathe in her. "I'm fine, Moneypenny," he says, daring to lean back into her.  
  
She lays her head on his shoulder for a second. Then, "good," she says, decisively, sitting up to take a sip of wine, and then kissing Freddie on the cheek. 

 

* * *

 

"Coming out tonight, Bel, darling?" Lix asks her, six months into Bel's job on the newsreels. The shine had worn off very quickly, for both her and Freddie, once they had realised that George was never going to let them go after (and certainly not run) the most important stories. Lix was a rare bright spot.  
  
Bel shook her head. "Not tonight," she said. "I've got a date."  
  
"Oh?" says Lix, lowering her glasses so she can look at her properly, a twinkle in her eye. "Who's the lucky chap?"  
  
She catches Freddie's eye from across the office. He knows who she's meeting tonight, and it's not a chap.  
  
"We met at a mutual friend's engagement party," she says, which at least is true. They had rolled their eyes at the gushing and wedding talk of their friends, and ended up snogging in the coat cupboard. It had been a good night.  
  
"Well, from the smile on your face, it seems like you're going to have a wonderful time, whoever it is," says Lix, smirking. "Enjoy yourself, my dear." She pats Bel's arm.  
  
"Oh, I will," says Bel, winking clumsily at Freddie, and Freddie grins back, trying to ignore the twist of jealousy in his stomach that's become commonplace every time Bel has a new beau. 

 

* * *

 

"Marry her, and no one would know _what I am_ ," says Adam Le Ray, and Freddie may be naive when it comes to these kinds of things, still, but he knows what he's talking about.  
  
"You should have cared," he says, shaking the man, as if that'll get some sense into his drunken brain. "You should have _bloody_ loved her." Because Ruthie deserved better, regardless of Adam Le Ray's demons.  
  
Later, he goes to Bel's room and they talk of spies and Ruthie and he clarifies what 'in trouble' means. He recites e. e. cummings to her and doesn't ask if she's ever felt scared because of 'what she is', felt a bubble of fear any time she's flirted with another woman or held her hand or kissed her. Or even looked at her.  
  
Freddie doesn't ask this, because he suspects he already knows the answer.

 

* * *

 

"Adultery, fornication, lesbianism-" Bel pauses, and Freddie surely can't be the only one to notice how her voice is strained, the way her face twists when Isaac chokes on his tea - but maybe they don't notice, or attribute it to the former qualities, both of which Bel has been a participant of, "are all considered sins, but not crimes. It falls to us to ask: why?"  
  
Bel, for her part, is not even thinking about Freddie, for once. She is back in school, a 13 year old praying by her bed, asking why she had to fall for her friend, why he had to make her sinful, when her lips tasted so good and she felt so nice pressed against her. Asking how could that be wrong, not getting an answer. Going to the school chapel and asking the priest (because Bel is nothing if not tenacious), asking his opinion on it, being patted on the head and asked why such a nice little girl (and isn't that _patronising_ , Bel _hates_ being patronised, she is _not_ a little girl) is asking about such horrible things. Bel feels sick. It wasn't long after this she gave up on the whole idea of religion for good, but it still feels like a punch to her gut, to know that in so many people's eyes, in this country today, she is sinful, even if there is nothing they can do to stop her. Not legally anyway.  
  
That's why Wolfenden is important, she thinks, before rushing to meet Rosa in her office, and trying not to think about how pretty she is.

 

* * *

 

"Look at her, look at her!" Bel exclaims, pointing to the beautiful girl on the television screen. "She looks _exactly_ like a girl I had a crush on at school!"  
  
"What school did you go to?" asks Freddie, mock-astonished. "Way to make me feel inadequate, Moneypenny." But he says it with a smile, and Bel pushes his arm playfully.  
  
"I never said I _dated_ her!" she says. "She was well out of my league."  
  
"No one's out of your league," says Freddie, stating it like the simple fact it is, and she smiles and giggles and kisses him, and _God_ he loves being with her.  
  
"I love you," she says when she draws back, and she thinks it's a minor miracle that she can say that at all, after all they've been through. But then, them being here at all is a minor miracle. But it's Christmas, and they're drunk, and happy, and sprawled across each other on the sofa while watching reruns of old films and sighing over pretty actors and actresses, and Bel intends to enjoy it fully.

 


End file.
